


Carrier Pigeons

by writeside



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Confessing your love to birds, Fluff, Freebird - Freeform, Getting Together, I will never be over the fact that Sam can talk to birds, Isn't that what we're calling this ship?, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:58:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2171865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeside/pseuds/writeside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve pines after Sam and brags about how great a guy Sam is to birds and everything is cute and ridiculous and nothing hurts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carrier Pigeons

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be part of a bigger thing but now its not so I just decided to post it. It's literally just Steve and Sam being cuties. Also I think Sam actually has a pet bird he can communicate with and that he can't just talk to every bird he sees, but...maybe Steve's pigeon's spoke to Sam's bird. I dunno. Hopefully it's cute.

Becca from VA asks to meet with Sam early one Saturday morning, during the time Steve and Sam would normally run together. Steve isn’t jealous, because Becca isn’t doing well and isn’t speaking up at meetings, and Sam has been worried about her - worried enough to give her his number and a promise he’d always pick up and be ready to talk to her. The fact that she is taking him up on his offer is great. Steve can think of literally nothing more effective at making the world seem beautiful and hopeful and kind than sitting and talking to Sam.

Still.

Mornings are Steve and Sam time.

Steve runs regardless, pushing himself to beat his personal best so he can be sweaty and proud when Sam asks how his run went. But pushing himself to go faster means that when he has finished his and Sam’s circuit he has extra time.

He wants to call Natasha, but she never picks up social calls. She likes the time to think before her response that texting gives her, and even when she’s not using that time to spin or secure a lie the habit sticks. His fingers hover over the keypad, but he can’t think of anything to text her. He doesn’t actually have anything to say.

Instead Steve wanders over to Central Park and finds a quiet bench to sit on. He sees a flock of birds on the grass nearby and smiles, then remembers the fanny pack around his waist. He’d taken to wearing one when running with Sam, because Sam seemed determined to bring them back in style. He always keeps it filled with bird seed, just in case Sam runs across a bird and insists the poor little thing is starving and needs help Right Now. Steve learned quickly that not running with a bird seed supply leads to adopting half of New York’s bird population, which leads to JARVIS getting so pissed he played Rick Astley on repeat whenever Steve or Sam came around and Clint threatening to use Flappy IV for notching feathers.

He hadn’t realized he had put his bird seed fanny pack on by default when he went running this morning, but he’s glad now. Sam is rubbing off on him, because when he sees the flock his first thought is that he wants to feed them. He opens his bird seed pack and scatters the seed on the ground near the birds, watching them peck happily at it.

“You should really be thanking Sam,” Steve tells the birds. He doesn't expect the birds to reply or understand, but it seems like an important point to make regardless. “Sam Wilson,” he affirms, “Remember that name. He’s the one who always goes out of his way to make sure little birdies like you are taken care of.”

Steve wishes he knew birds like Sam did, because it felt demeaning to refer to the flock as ‘little birdies’ when Sam could call them by their species and know things about what they did and didn’t like.

“Sam loves birds,” Steve tells the flock. “He’s very nurturing, but never possessive. I think that’s why birds are his favorite. If you have a cat or a dog as a pet, you own it, but birds you just take care of and wish them the best. He’s very good at letting things work themselves out.”

Steve wonders if right now Becca is telling Sam what it is that sent her spiraling recently, and he can perfectly picture Sam talking to her and supporting her, but always leaving the future up to her.

“Sam’s pretty great,” Steve admits, because he thinks about him too often not to have noticed, and it’s not like Sam’s greatness is a secret.

“I think I’m in love with Sam,” Steve says. That is a secret.

But there is no one around to hear. The birds continue eating, and he trusts them not to tell.

By noon Steve is still sitting on the bench, contemplating life and Sam Wilson when Sam himself comes running over, out of breath and smiling huge. There’s a bird perched happily on his shoulder, and it looks like the same type Steve fed earlier. The bird gives a chirp and flies away, but Sam hardly seems to notice.

“I just drank three cups of coffee while talking to Becca so I’m not interested in grabbing another, but do you want to get something to eat? As a date? Is that something that interests you? I heard you were interested.”

“What?” Steve gasps. “How did you know?”

Sam’s face illuminates like he has been waiting his whole life for the moment.

“A little birdy told me.”


End file.
